


just how you looked in the light

by guycecil



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Gen, M/M, Queerplatonic Relationships, Sickfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-18
Updated: 2014-12-18
Packaged: 2018-03-02 00:39:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,545
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2793452
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/guycecil/pseuds/guycecil
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kageyama is, unsurprisingly, the most stubborn sick person on the face of the planet.</p>
            </blockquote>





	just how you looked in the light

**Author's Note:**

> The only Kagehina headcanon that matters is gray aro Kageyama and demiromantic Hinata. That's not quite what this is, but it's close.
> 
> This hasn't been edited except for a quick run through spellcheck so I apologize in advance. **Warnings** for descriptions of illness and vomit. Title from "Hum Hallelujah" by Fall Out Boy.

Kageyama wakes in a sweat and can’t remember what he dreamed. His hair is plastered to his face, sheets tangled around his legs. When he forces himself to sit up, he’s dizzy and nauseous, and it takes a few long minutes before feels steady enough to get out of bed and stagger to the bathroom.

When he looks in the mirror, he can’t really say he’s surprised that he looks like shit. He’s fairly certain Hinata’s bedhead is contagious, and judging by the paleness of his face, so is that cough Suga-san caught last week. Except this looks, and feels, like much more than a cough.

After scrubbing at his face and making a half-hearted attempt to put his hair back in place, he slouches out into the kitchen, where his mother is already setting breakfast on the table. She turns, and then frowns, when he walks into the room.

“Oh, Tobio, you haven’t caught something, have you?” She hurries over and presses her hand to his forehead, ignoring his grimace. “Well, you don’t have a fever, but maybe you should stay home anyway…”

He shrugs her hand off and heads for the table. “I have practice,” he grouses.

She sighs. “Of course you do. At least try to take it easy, okay?”

“Mm,” he mumbles around a mouthful of food. It makes him a little nauseous to eat it all, but he does it anyway, and half an hour later he’s dressed and out the door.

The walk to school feels longer than usual – probably because it actually is, he realizes when he runs into Hinata, who is almost chronically late to class. The smaller boy crosses his path at a near sprint, pushing his bike while simultaneously running up the hill it’s taking all of Kageyama’s strength to climb.

An orange head turns to frown when he notices him. “Kageyama?” he says in surprise. “You’re gonna be late.”

“So are you,” Kageyama snaps back. “Not that that’s anything new.”

Hinata sticks out his tongue. “None of your business,” he grumbles. “Wanna walk together?”

Hinata gives him whiplash, Kageyama thinks bleakly. “Sure,” he says. He wonders if Hinata feels the same.

They don’t speak much as they walk, Hinata matching Kageyama’s pace easily even though it’s slower than usual, and Kageyama is grateful for it, though he’d never say so. Hinata’s presence at his side is calming – it rests his frazzled, tired nerves, just like the same as in the middle of a match. But he’d never say it out loud.

“You’re so slow today,” Hinata whines about three-quarters of the way up the hill. “Are you okay?”

“I think I have a cold,” Kageyama admits, and then fixes Hinata with the strongest glare he can muster. “ _Don’t_ tell Daichi-san.”

“I wasn’t planning to,” Hinata grumbles. “We can’t really practice without you.”

Kageyama glances over at Hinata, but he’s not looking, just glaring at the ground, attempting to kick a rock up the hill and failing. Kageyama sighs to himself. Whiplash, he swears.

* * *

Class is unpleasant. He can’t focus any more than usual, tapping his pen nervously against his notebook. He finds himself trying to hold off sleep and tries to keep himself awake by staring at the bright streak of color at the front of the room that is the girl who dyed her hair over the weekend. Instead, he ends up falling asleep while staring at her.

At lunch time he finds a corner to keep to himself. On any other day he would grab Hinata and drag him to the gym for practice, but this is not any other day, and much as he feels like he’s letting his routine slip, he also feels too dizzy to stand for longer than five minutes.

And to top it all off, he takes one bite of the lunch his mother packed for him and feels a wave of nausea like he hasn’t felt in a long time. He sets his food to the side and drops his head into his hands, rubbing at his temples while he waits for it to pass. His whole body aches, his stomach is roiling, and he can barely see straight, and for a moment he genuinely wonders if he’s dying.

But he pushes away the thought and, once the nausea has passed, he forces himself to eat the rest of his lunch. He regrets it afterward, when his back is pressed into the spot the walls meet and his hand is pressed against his mouth holding back the desperate need to vomit.

“Kageyama!”

There’s a hand on his arm and he slaps it away without thinking, then looks up into brown eyes and a comically large frown.

“What do you want?” he asks, and his voice rasps but the nausea stays down and that’s what matters.

Hinata huffs. “You didn’t eat with us so I came to make sure you were okay. Sorry for wanting to make sure you weren’t _dead_.”

“Well, I’m obviously not, so you can go back to being annoying somewhere else,” Kageyama grumbles, and drops his head back into his hands.

Hinata doesn’t leave though – instead, he somehow gets it in his head that it’s a good idea for him to just plop down next to Kageyama and just _sit_ there. Kageyama opens his eyes just enough to glare at him.

Hinata doesn’t even bother to glare back, though. He tilts his head to the side a little, face strangely blank. “Are you sure you’re okay?” he asks.

“I’m fine,” Kageyama growls. “Just go away.”

“You don’t look so good.”

“Hinata!” he groans.

“What?” Hinata whines. “Don’t get mad at me, I’m just telling the truth!”

Kageyama rubs at his temples, willing the aches coursing through his body to _go away_ , but of course they don’t. Neither does Hinata.

“You look pale,” mumbles the other boy. “Maybe you should take it easy today…”

Kageyama groans again. “You sound like my mother,” he snaps. “I just need to rest, I’ll be fine by practice.”

Lucky for him, Hinata actually seems to buy into it, because he looks a little relieved. “As long as you’re sure,” he says, and bounces to his feet. “I should get back to class. See you at practice!” And with that he takes off, more energy in one foot than Kageyama has in his entire body, and it pains him to even think it.

“Idiot,” he mumbles to himself, and slowly stands, trying to ignore the dizziness that waves through him as he does.

He makes it through the rest of the day – mostly, anyway. His head is still pounding when he walks into the gym for practice, but at least the dizziness and nausea have subsided for now. Stretching feels good, even if it leaves him a little breathless. He breathes a little easier, a little clearer, once that’s done.

He passes tosses back and forth with Sugawara-san for a little, and if his aim is a little bit off from usual, well, no one seems to notice. He can feel Hinata watching him, though, and every time he turns around there’s a pair of brown eyes fixed on him, only to whip away the moment they’re caught.

Kageyama sighs to himself – Hinata can watch all he wants, he decides. Kageyama’s fine, and as long as no one brings this small bout of sickness to Daichi-san’s attention, the rest of practice will go smoothly, as well.

Or so he thinks, anyway, until Ukai-san calls for a quick practice set. His first two tosses are too slow for Asahi, the next one too fast for Narita, the one after that out of Daichi’s reach. On the other side of the net, Sugawara-san tosses the ball easily to Hinata, and in Kageyama’s fog he collides with Ennoshita as the second year dives to keep the ball off the floor.

As he lies on the floor, he debates for a moment the merits of taking a quick nap – nobody would notice, right? Just a couple seconds, and then he’ll be back up…

“Kageyama! Oh god, I’m sorry, I didn’t see you coming, ahh—”

 _Damn Ennoshita_ , he thinks, and pops his eyes open.

“I’m fine,” he says as he sits up slowly. “My bad.”

Ennoshita still looks worried, and scattered across the court, the rest of the team is watching him carefully. “A-are you sure?” Ennoshita asks nervously. “That didn’t look good…”

“I’m fine,” Kageyama repeats. He climbs unsteadily to his feet and ignores the way Hinata’s staring at him. “One more.”

Ennoshita gulps and nods, and they quickly fall back into position. Kageyama’s next few tosses are right on point, and they manage to pull a few more points before one of Hinata’s spikes dances off the tips of Tsukishima’s fingers and off the side of the court.

He rubs slowly at his temples while Yamaguchi preps his serve on the other side of the net. The headache is back again, and the collision with Ennoshita ever so graciously reminded his body of how much it hurt earlier – and to top it all off, he can feel himself getting dizzy again. He shakes his head to clear it just in time for Yamaguchi’s serve to fly over the net, and he quickly rushes to position.

Daichi-san’s receive is clean, and the ball sails back to Kageyama easy and smooth. He has choices – Narita on the right, Asahi on the left, Tsukishima prepped should Kageyama need him. On the other side of the net, Tanaka and Sugawara are prepped to block on the left, confident in Nishinoya’s ability to receive anything Narita might spike at them.

 _Tsukishima, then_ , he thinks, and he jumps, and the ball grazes his fingers—

And slips away.

He’s not really sure what’s happened. The weight is all wrong, and his landing is off, and his ankle buckles underneath him, sending a sharp pain straight up to his knee, and he hits the floor hard, head cracking against the wood. He hears the ball thud behind him, and someone (Hinata, he thinks) shouts, “Kageyama!” and for a moment everything dims.

And then, with no knowledge of how much time has passed, Daichi-san is behind him, helping him sit up, and he groans as the sudden vertigo rushes to his head and without thinking he’s bent over and the lunch he worked so hard to keep down takes its revenge.

“Oi, oi, sensei, go see if the nurse is still here!” he hears Ukai bark, and then there’s a hand on his shoulder and another pressed against his forehead and he feels like he’s on fire.

“Ah, shit,” Ukai hisses. “Everyone back up, give him some space! Sugawara, Tanaka, go get something to clean this up!”

“Kageyama,” he hears Daichi-san’s voice in his ear. “Can you open your eyes? Are you okay? Can you hear me?”

“I’m fine,” he mumbles, though he immediately regrets it as the movement of his tongue catches the taste of bile and vomit in his mouth, and he nearly throws up again, sheer willpower the only thing that stops him as he doubles over once more.

“Oh yeah, sure seems fine to me,” Ukai-san grumbles, but Kageyama doesn’t respond, focusing solely on steadying his breathing, in and out.

“The nurse already left,” comes Takeda-sensei’s voice, breathless, a moment later. Kageyama opens his eyes just in time to see sensei press a water bottle into his hand.

“Here,” he says with a small smile. “At least get that taste out of your mouth.”

After Kageyama’s taken several long, slow mouthfuls, Ukai sighs. “Sawamura, take him to the bathroom. The rest of you, start putting everything away, we’re ending early today.”

“N-no!” Kageyama reaches out hastily, grabbing Ukai’s sleeve as he stands. “There’s no need for that! I can still play!”

Ukai barks a laugh and shakes Kageyama’s hand off. “I don’t think so, kid. We’ll have sensei call your mom to come get you, and then you’re off practice for at least another two days.”

“But—”

“Let it go, Kageyama,” Daichi-san murmurs as he loops Kageyama’s arm around his shoulders and slowly helps him to stand. “Let’s just go get you cleaned up.”

Even with Daichi-san’s help, it takes a while to even get to the restroom. It feels like all of Kageyama’s strength has been sapped straight out of his body, and his feet feel as if they’re filled with lead. He’s dizzy again by the time they reach the restroom, and he slowly mops his face with cool water while Daichi-san stands by, leaning against the wall.

Slowly, he turns the faucet off and leans against the counter. He can’t bring himself to look up and meet Daichi-san’s eyes. “I’m sorry I didn’t say anything,” he mumbles.

The captain sighs. “I don’t know that I would have expected any different.” He comes up behind Kageyama and lays a hand on his shoulder, gentler than usual. “At least take some time off, like Ukai-san says. You’ll feel better in no time.” Then he smiles, meeting Kageyama’s eyes in the mirror. “But you will be doing double practice when you get back to make up for this.”

Kageyama knows he probably shouldn’t feel relieved about that, but somehow, he does anyway.

Everything is cleaned up by the time they get back – even Kageyama’s mess in the middle of the court. He avoids making eye contact with everyone, instead collecting up his things in silence and gathering with the rest of the team to hear Ukai-san’s wrap up. Afterwards, he starts to head off with the rest of them, only to be stopped by Ukai, who drops a hand onto his shoulder.

“Oh no, you don’t,” he warns. “Sensei already called your mom, you’re staying right here till she gets here.”

Kageyama tries very, _very_ hard not to go bright red. Great. Sitting outside in the dark waiting for his mom like an elementary schooler in trouble. Sounds like fun.

But he knows there’s no point in protesting, and he doesn’t think he could make it all the way down the hill anyway. He lowers himself down outside the gym and pulls out his phone so he’ll see his mother’s text when she gets here, and then resigns himself to a long, boring, embarrassing wait.

Beside him, Hinata appears out of nowhere, dropping to the concrete next to him and sighing loudly. Kageyama eyes him distrustfully.

“What do you want?” he asks, suspicious.

Hinata sticks his tongue out at him. “I’m waiting with you, stupid.”

“Why?”

“Hmph.” Hinata crosses his arms and looks away. “Because you obviously can’t take care of yourself, so I’ll have to do it for you.”

Kageyama splutters indignantly. “I can, too! I don’t need you watching over me! Just go home!”

Hinata glares at him. “Obviously you _can’t_ , since I _told_ you that you didn’t look good, but you didn’t _listen_ to me, did you?” He sighs dramatically. “So now it’s all my responsibility.”

“Shut up,” Kageyama growls. “I can wait by myself. Go home.”

The look Hinata shoots him is angrier than usual – or maybe just angry in a different way. Hinata’s glares are usually reserved for real insults, comments about his height, anything that comes out of Tsukishima’s mouth, but this is different. He looks angry, but also… something else.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” Kageyama grumbles. He has to turn away – the force of that look is too much for him to handle with the way he feels right now.

“Idiot,” Hinata snaps, but apparently he has no desire to elaborate, because he falls silent after that.

Kageyama looks back over, but Hinata has turned his glare on the ground now, drawing pictures in the dirt. Kageyama is fairly certain the one he’s currently working on is Kageyama himself getting hit in the face with a volleyball, but it’s hard to tell for sure.

Oh. Well. Something suddenly dawns on Kageyama. He feels horribly selfish and slow.

“Hinata,” he says slowly, and the other boy grunts in response.

“Hinata,” he repeats, and brown eyes turn angrily on him.

“What?” Hinata whines. “I already told you, I’m not going home.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t listen to you,” Kageyama says, and he puts everything he has in it – he needs Hinata to know he means it. “I should have taken it easier during practice.”

“You should have sat out,” Hinata grumbles.

Kageyama wants to argue but doesn’t. “Maybe,” he says.

Hinata looks up, frowning. “Are you sure you’re okay?” he says, suddenly looking nervous. “You didn’t hit your head _that_ hard when you fell, did you? Do you need to throw up again?”

Kageyama would smack him if he thought he had enough energy. As it is, he settles for a scowl. “No, I don’t need to throw up again! I told you, I’m fine!”

“You’re just apologizing an awful lot.”

Kageyama grunts. “Sorry for caring.”

“Right back at you,” Hinata snaps, and they fall into uneasy silence.

With the sun gone, it’s starting to get cold, and the chill brings the ache back to Kageyama’s body once more. He bites the inside of his cheek and tries – unsuccessfully – to keep himself from sneezing.

And still Hinata doesn’t leave, even when five full minutes pass and not a word is exchanged between them. Kageyama fidgets uncomfortably and Hinata adds the other members of their team to his drawing in the dirt.

He swallows, although the motion hurts his throat, and when he coughs Hinata glances up, just for a second, but his eyes quickly go back to the dirt. Kageyama shifts slowly.

“Hinata,” he says again.

“What?”

“I’m sorry,” Kageyama says.

Hinata sighs for what has to be the thousandth time. “You’re an idiot,” he says, and before Kageyama has time to ask what he’s talking about, Hinata slides an arm through Kageyama’s and leans against his side, light enough not to put pressure on Kageyama’s aching body, but still close enough to lend some warmth and chase away some of the chill that’s plaguing him.

Kageyama doesn’t really have the strength to protest, nor does he really want to. “If you catch this then it’s not my fault,” he grumbles, but he leans his head on Hinata’s, and slowly, he falls asleep.

* * *

In his dream, there’s no one there to catch his toss – except that there is. The ball simultaneously thuds against the ground and someone’s palm, the echo ringing harshly in his ears. Hinata shouts in triumph at the same time that Kindaichi glares at him across a giant rift, and Kageyama feels like he’s being swallowed up.

He feels both cold and warm, shivering and sweating all at once. He’s on edge and at home, alone and surrounded by friends. He grits his teeth against a bitter wind and feels tears sting his eyes but he won’t let them fall because he’s _better_ than that now.

Hinata holds out his hand like he’s asking Kageyama to take it but there’s a volleyball there that won’t let him. Hinata grins, and Kageyama reaches out his hand, and—

This dream doesn’t make any sense, Kageyama decides.

* * *

He wakes to the buzzing of his phone in his lap and rubs hastily at his eyes, trying to clear the blur. It’s a text from his mother – she’s waiting in the parking lot at the side of the school.

Kageyama goes to get up, only to stop short when he realizes Hinata has fallen asleep, too, head resting lazily on Kageyama’s shoulder. For a moment, Kageyama debates whether or not it’s worth it to get up and disturb such peaceful quiet, and then sighs to himself and gently shakes Hinata awake.

The other boy groans as he wakes, then shakes his head with an energy no one should have immediately after waking up. As he rubs at his eyes he looks up at Kageyama and asks, “Is your mom here?”

Kageyama nods. “She’s waiting for me. I should probably go.”

“I’ll walk over there with you,” Hinata yawns. “I have to get my bike anyway.”

This time, Kageyama doesn’t protest.

They walk close together to the parking lot, and Kageyama waits while Hinata unlocks his bike, and then they cross the parking lot together. Kageyama stands outside his mother’s car and waves at Hinata as he starts to turn away.

Then, as he’s tossing his things into the car and about to climb inside, he hears Hinata call his name and turns back around.

Hinata gives him a smile that doesn’t quite fit his face – just for a second, and then it’s replaced with the look he usually reserves for that moment before he calls for the toss.

“Get some rest,” he snaps. “You can’t toss to me if you’re dead.”

Kageyama scoffs. “I’m not gonna die, stupid.”

“You’re stupid!” Hinata shoots back, face going red.

“ _You’re_ —”

“Tobio, get in the car,” his mother snaps, and Kageyama feels his own face go red.

“See you tomorrow,” he grumbles to Hinata, and turns back to the car.

“I’ve never met him before,” his mother says as they pull away. “He seems nice.”

“You would like him,” Kageyama says wearily, and they sit in silence for the rest of the ride home.


End file.
